


The Psychiatrist

by RoxieDeSanta



Category: Hannibal (TV), Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxieDeSanta/pseuds/RoxieDeSanta
Summary: Nick goes to see a  psychiatrist for his problems.





	The Psychiatrist

**Author's Note:**

> Not really a relationship, but kind of? It's complicated.

Nick twirled the large ring on his left middle finger. He really didn’t want to be here. He was only at the stupid psychiatrist because his ‘colleagues’ had suggested he do a Tony Soprano and see one. None of the ones in Boston would see him, with good reason, and he wasn’t about to air his dirty laundry where New York and Jersey could get at it. They may have been vague brothers in arms, but he wouldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them with his personal problems. He wasn’t sure he had any anyway.

So he went further south. Someone who had an amazing reputation. Someone he’d heard worked with the FBI, but had never told anyone, the FBI or tabloids, what he heard in his sessions.

Nick was hesitant to come to the man for fear he might run into one of the FBI agents, but unless they knew the Boston mafia man by sight, Nick figured he was safe. They shouldn’t have anything on him anyway. He’d done his time for what they’d had.

“Mr. Messina?”

Nick looked up from his fiddling to see a very well dressed man standing in front of him. Nick stood up and adjusted his suit coat.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He mentally slapped himself. Who else would it be? There was literally no one else in the waiting room. Nick cleared his throat trying to compose himself. “Nice suit. Who’s your tailor?”

The man gestured to the inside of his office. “Please, come in. I’ll give you his card.”

Nick nodded. It was a strange accent the good Doctor had. “Thank you, uh, Dr. Lecter.” Nick wasn’t sure what he was supposed to call the man, but he was sure that his title and surname would suffice unless told otherwise.

“Please, call me Hannibal, Nick. If I may call you Nick?”

Nick undid his suit button and sat down in one of the chairs. “Sure. Whatever floats your boat, Doc.”

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing around his mouth, but didn’t say anything as he sat opposite Nick.

“So, uh, how does this work?” Nick asked, crossing his legs. “I’ve never done this therapy thing before.”

“We use this hour to talk about whatever is on your mind,” Hannibal said.

Nick furrowed his brow and looked around the room. It was a beautiful room. He should commit it to memory and have his decorator do something like it in his own house. Hannibal sat quietly, hands clasped, while Nick looked around. Nick abruptly stood up and started pacing behind his chair. If it disturbed Hannibal, he made no mention of it and his expression hadn’t changed.

Nick frowned. Hannibal’s poker face was better than his own and that was saying something. Or else the motion really hadn’t disturbed the psychiatrist.

Nick placed his hands on the back of the chair. “Maybe this is a waste of time. I can’t think of anything I want to talk about.”

“What caused you to want to find a therapist in the first place?” Hannibal prodded.

Nick pursed his lips. “Anxiety, I guess. My boys noticed my poker game has been slipping lately. I, uh, tend to snap at people more which isn’t great for my…” Nick tried to think quickly, “waste management business…” He blushed lightly. He should have been able to come up with something better than that.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his face. “How is the… waste management business treating you?”

Nick narrowed his eyes. Did the doctor know he was a made man? Had he googled him or something? Had a background check done? Nick would have given Hannibal the benefit of the doubt, but experience had taught him otherwise.

“What do you know about me, Doctor?”

“Your name is Nick Messina. You’re from Boston. You came to me because you couldn’t find anyone closer you could trust. I infer that means you either have a lot of secrets, you don’t believe people are trustworthy or both.”

Nick wasn’t sure he believed that was all Hannibal knew, but he wasn’t about to call him out when he knew very little about the doctor, could tell even less and was in his territory. The conman skills he had honed wouldn’t help him here either. He gave in and sighed.

“Not well, to be honest. It hasn’t for a while. I mean, the money is nice. My life is comfortable because of it, but I just… it’s not what I thought I’d be doing with my life. The guys told me when I first joined the… waste management company, that it was in my blood and I would learn to love it. My grandfather started the company and my father led it for a time until he was arrested and thrown in prison around the time my mother got pregnant.”

Nick paused. Everybody in his Family knew he had never spoken to or met his dad. They all knew not to mention the bastard around Nick or there could be consequences. Consequently, he had never spoken about him to anyone. Nick had assumed the man didn’t matter to him. His mother had been more than enough of a parent to be both a mother and father to him.

“Do you speak to your father?” Hannibal questioned when Nick fell silent.

“Never. I’ve never spoken to him. I’ve never met him either. I don’t ever intend to. Bastard left my mother when he found out she was pregnant. He doesn’t deserve to know his only son and he can rot and die in prison without ever knowing me as far as I’m concerned.”

Hannibal nodded. “I see.”

Nick glared at the psychiatrist. “My mother was enough of a father for me. I don’t need another one when all he did was contribute was some DNA,” Nick said viciously, internally surprising himself how much he cared.

“I would suggest you go and see him. See what he says about you being in the same company he was. Perhaps he felt the way you do about being apart of it.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to ask him how he felt. My boys have already told me how much he enjoyed his work. He was a fucking hitman and he got caught. What kind of hitman gets caught?”

“Maybe he felt guilty for what he had done and was attempting to make amends for it.”

Nick shook his head. “Or he was just terrible at being a hitman. Besides, either way, that doesn’t excuse him leaving my mom after she got pregnant. Fucking Bastard.”

“Perhaps you should talk to someone else at the prison. They may be able to talk to your father where you cannot.”

Nick looked at Hannibal curiously. He couldn’t seriously be suggesting what Nick thought he was suggesting. “Are you telling me to have my dad killed?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. It became clear to Nick that was exactly what he was suggesting.

“I am suggesting you talk to your father and then decide how to proceed from there.”

Nick leaned back against the chair. That was reasonable enough. Maybe his father had extenuating circumstances for why he had never contacted his mother after Nick was born. Probably not. But he was still his biological father and Nick figured he should probably give him at least one chance. If he turned out to be exactly how Nick thought he would, then he knew there were people in prison with him who would love to help him ice his dad.

He smiled at Hannibal. “You know, Dr. Lecter, I think I will go talk to my father. Meet him. See how he really is. It might be good for me.”

Hannibal smiled that not-quite-a-smile smile. Nick supposed it was a smile anyway. It was both exquisite and disconcerting at the same time. It was dangerous, Nick decided. It gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure he liked it. He squirmed a bit uncomfortably. Nick was positive Hannibal’s smile widened almost imperceptibly.

“What about your mother?” Hannibal asked after a moment. “What would she think about you contacting your father?”

Nick didn’t want to talk about his mom either. She had recently fallen ill and the doctors weren’t sure why yet. Nick had set her up in the best hospital with the best room with the best possible care money could buy.

“I don’t think she would like it. I don’t remember the last time I talked to her about him. Probably when I was young, maybe a teenager. I went through a vaguely rebellious stage in my teens where I’m sure I asked about him. After that, he just didn’t seem to matter much in my life. I’d done just fine without him up to that point, why should the future be any different? I got into and graduated from Julliard without him. So, yeah, I don’t think I’ve talked to her about him for decades.”

Hannibal nodded. “How if your relationship with your mother?”

Nick laughed. “Probably the most healthy, normal one I have.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m not sure I actually have anyone else that I could say would take a bullet for me or that I would even trust to hold my watch, let alone with my life, except my mom. I trust her implicitly. She would never betray me even if she doesn’t like my choice of careers,” Nick said with a smile.

“Does she not like it because your father was a part of it?” Hannibal asked tilting his head slightly.

Nick shrugged. “Probably partly, yes. I mean, it is the reason he went to jail. She wasn’t happy when I got convicted of, uh, receiving the proceedings of a working girl and sentenced to a handful of years in prison. I was upset because of the fine I had to pay. She came to visit me every visiting day though.” Nick chuckled to himself. “Mostly to scold me for being a pimp and that she had taught me to treat women better than that.”

“Were you a pimp because you despise women?” Hannibal inquired.

“Fuck no. I’m just good at it. My girls wanted to be escorts and were well paid and well protected. I never hit them or let anyone else hurt them unless they were into that sort of thing. I ran a very successful BDSM den for expensive clientele for many years until the government shut us down.” Nick sat back against his chair, satisfied. He had been good at pimping. His girls loved him. He still got emails and texts from a few of them. They had sent him letters in prison telling him how their lives were going. He did miss a few of them.

“How was prison?”

Nick shrugged. “Not too bad. I wasn’t in max so it wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t a walk in the park, but if you kept your nose generally clean, it wasn’t bad. I even got garden duty and it was nice to be outside in the sun for a long time.”

“Do you enjoy working with your hands, Nicholas?”

Nick nodded. “I do. Playing the piano was my life before I got into the… waste management business.” God, that was a mouthful.

Hannibal smiled that smile again, making Nick squirm. “You are free to be honest about your profession, Nicholas. You have nothing to fear here. Unless you speak of harming someone, which I would be obligated to report to the police, Nothing you say in this room will pass beyond these walls.”

Nick smiled softly and nodded. “That’s good to know.” He wasn’t sure why he felt he could trust Hannibal that much. He had a certain look about him that made Nick feel like he was telling the truth. Almost as if he would keep Nick’s secrets simply to study him more.

“I have an appointment at seven, but I should like to have you for dinner,” Hannibal said casually. Nick swallowed and weighed his options. He was brand new in town, only last night having settled into his temporary condo. He nodded once to Hannibal.

“Sure. What time do you want me to be here?”

“Eight o'clock,” Hannibal replied, standing up. Nick glanced at his watch, surprised it had been nearly an hour, and stood up as well. He wasn’t certain a friendly dinner was proper for a psychiatrist and a patient, but then again, Hannibal didn’t seem like a normal psychiatrist.

“Alright. I’ll be here at eight then.” Nick nodded again, suddenly feeling awkward again.

“You mentioned you played the piano?” Hannibal said.

Nick nodded. “Yeah, I played the Hungarian Rhapsody for my final at Julliard.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. I wonder how you would do with a harpsichord.”

“I haven’t played anything for a very long time and I think I’ve only played the harpsichord once in my life.” Nick shrugged lightly.

“I should like very much to hear you play anyway,” Hannibal said, gesturing to the instrument in the corner of the room.

Nick hadn’t even noticed it. He took a hesitant breath and walked over to it. He sat down and swallowed nervously. What if he was now terrible? He didn’t think his pride could take that kind of hit when he had once been great. He felt Hannibal lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Nick took another deep breath and played a piece by Bach. He faltered a bit near the middle when his memory momentarily failed him, but overall, having not played at all for over 10 years, he felt he did pretty good.

Hannibal had taken a seat while Nick played. He stood up and clapped. “Bach. Well done. Could use some polishing though,” Hannibal said with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

Nick blushed, both from the compliment and from being out of practice. “Thank you. Do, uh, do you play, Doctor?” Nick mentally slapped himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Why would Hannibal have an expensive harpsichord if he didn’t play?

Hannibal nodded and sat down on the small bench next to Nick. His leg touched Nick’s and Nick felt a spark run up his thigh and straight to his groin. He willed his semi back into submission, unsure why the good doctor had this effect on him.

He’d had occasional thoughts about men before. Had even had some sort of relations with one at Julliard. He’d let the guy suck him off, but at the time trying to convince himself he was straight, he could only bring himself to give a handjob in return. He hadn’t seen the guy after and had only been with women since. Homosexuality or even bisexuality wasn’t looked kindly upon in the mob and Nick hadn’t met anyone since that he would want to risk his life over.

Still, he wasn’t sure what the right course of action was with Hannibal. Should he suggest something? What if Hannibal was somehow offended? Nick didn’t want to have to locate another psychiatrist that would take him that he trusted. He was brought out of his thoughts when Hannibal started playing. It was beautiful. He could have been a professional.

“That was… amazing. Your own composure?”

Hannibal smiled and nodded, pleased. “It is. You have a good ear.”

Nick couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks.”

Hannibal glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid our hour is up.” He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. “It has been a pleasure, Nicholas.”

Nick took the proffered hand and shook his slowly, positive he felt Hannibal caress his hand with his thumb, but it was so light and swift he couldn’t be entirely sure. “It was nice meeting you, Dr. Lecter. Tonight at eight and tomorrow at six for our next appointment?”

Hannibal nodded once. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a card. “My tailor.”

Nick smiled, buttoned his suit jacket and took the card. “I’ll see you at eight then.” He smiled again as he was shown out a different door by Hannibal. Nick was pleased to note the different doors for exiting patients and entering ones.

Nick walked out to his rental car. He supposed it would have been cheaper and faster to take the metro, but no way in hell was he about to put himself in that kind of situation. Underground with no place to escape? No, thank you. Besides, there were plenty of rental places in Baltimore that could get him the type of luxury car he wanted.

It was just after seven now, and although Nick wanted to look into Hannibal’s tailor, he supposed it would have to wait until tomorrow. What to do for an hour before he had to be back. Driving around, noting where things were, wouldn’t be a waste, he decided.

Nick was back at Hannibal’s house promptly by eight. He usually didn’t concern himself with whether he was on time. Although, he made sure his underlings knew they had to be on time. It had been the same way when he was a runner. He knocked on the door and straightened his suit. He had briefly considered changing but thought that might be a bit weird, so he just showered and freshened up. Hannibal opened the door a minute later, his sleeves rolled up with an apron around his waist. Nick couldn’t help but notice Hannibal looked really good.

Hannibal smiled. “Nick, you’re right on time. Come in. Dinner is almost ready.”

Nick resisted the urge to squirm under Hannibal’s predatory smile and held out the bottle of wine he had brought as he stepped inside.

“Chateau Petrus,” Hannibal said, reading the label. “Excellent choice. It will go well with dinner.”

Nick smiled at the compliment. If he knew one thing other than music, it was alcohol, though he wasn’t amazing at wine. He had once thought of investing in a winery in California. He was still vaguely looking into it.

Nick followed Hannibal to the dining room and then into the kitchen. He assumed he was supposed to since Hannibal hadn’t told him to wait in the dining room. Nick stood awkwardly in the kitchen as Hannibal opened the wine and poured two glasses. Nick shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the back of a nearby chair.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

Hannibal looked him up and down critically, leaving Nick with a slight tingly feeling, before handing him a glass and going back to rearranging some sort of vegetable. He placed it in the oven before looking back at Nick. “How are your chopping skills?”

Nick shrugged. “Adequate. I don’t think I’ve ever had them judged before.”

Hannibal smiled and handed Nick a knife. Nick carefully took it. It was beautiful. It must have been expensive. He set it down on the counter and quietly washed his hands. Hannibal looked on approvingly. Nick picked the knife back up and took some carrots from Hannibal’s hand, their fingers brushing. A shiver, which Nick tried to repress, slid down his spine.

Nick cleared his throat. “How, uh, how do you want these?”

“Sliced at a half-centimeter. If you can handle that,” Hannibal said, his eyes smirking.

Nick raised an eyebrow and set about cutting the carrots as close to half a centimeter as quickly as he could. He felt Hannibal’s eyes on him but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to give Hannibal the satisfaction of knowing that Nick was tuned into his presence. Although, Nick thought Hannibal probably already knew. Nick finished cutting and looked up at his host.

“Well? How did I do?”

Hannibal nodded. “Very well, Nicholas.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully before taking the carrot slices and tossed them into a bowl. He poured some sort of sauce over them and placed the bowl in the fridge. Nick sipped his own wine. He bit back a moan. It was good.

“This is delicious.”

Hannibal turned to look at Nick with that smile that made Nick shiver pleasantly, Hannibal’s eyes sparkling dangerously. They stood silent for a moment, predator and prey, before the oven buzzed. Hannibal broke eye contact to go pull the food out. Nick let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“This way,” Hannibal said, taking the food to the dining room. Nick grabbed his jacket and his and Hannibal’s wine glasses. Hannibal dished out the food, artfully arranging it on the plates. Nick sat down in the seat Hannibal indicated, placeing the wine glasses where they were supposed to be as Hannibal walked back into the kitchen. He walked back out a moment later, sleeves down, apron off and pulling his jacket on. Nick blushed lightly and pulled his own jacket on.

Hannibal’s eyes sparkled with dark glee as he watched Nick. Nick could feel Hannibal had plans for him, but he had no idea what they could be.

They ate and talked about everything and nothing. When they were both finished, Hannibal got up to remove the plates. He refilled Nick’s wine glass. Nick wasn’t sure how many of those he’d had already or how many Hannibal had drunk, but Hannibal hadn’t said anything about it. He’d just kept refilling Nick’s glass and Nick kept drinking it. It was good wine and Nick would be damned before he let good alcohol go to waste.

Hannibal came back and offered Nick a hand. Nick smiled. 

“Thanks, Hannibal. That was a delicious meal. You’re an amazing cook.”

Hannibal smiled and Nick squirmed, more so than he would have if he hadn’t had so much wine. Hannibal’s smile widened. “I can’t have you driving home in this condition. You’re welcome to spend the night at my home.”

Nick nodded. He chuckled quietly. “That would probably be best.” He leaned a bit heavily on Hannibal when he stood up. “Sorry,” he said, beginning to slur his words. “Damn good wine.”

Hannibal smiled. “Yes it is.”

Nick nodded and tried to focus on Hannibal’s voice. It was nice, soothing, but he was having more trouble than he felt he should. He was usually capable of holding his liquor. A troubling thought entered his mind.

“Did you drug me?”

“We’re going to continue your therapy and you needed to be in a more cooperative mood,” Hannibal replied, nearly carrying Nick down the hall.

“Wha-?” Nick struggled to focus. “My therapy?”

“Yes, you need to be more open and trust me if we’re going to complete your therapy in the time given to us,” Hannibal said as Nick slipped into a confused darkness.

\---

Nick blinked and groaned. His head was fuzzy, but not in a hungover way. What had happened? He remembered eating dinner with Hannibal, but the end was confusing. He vaguely remembered Hannibal saying he should stay for the night. Maybe that’s where he was. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t move his arms. He opened his eyes slowly to see a wall that was not his own. He attempted to move again only to realize his arms were comfortably tied behind his back with soft cords. His legs were tied together and then tied to his arms. He was effectively hogtied. In fact, he noticed, his entire body was wrapped intermittently in the same soft rope.

Nick furrowed his brow. “What the fuck?”

“The more you struggle, the tighter the ropes will get,” a voice said from behind him.

Nick craned his neck to look. Hannibal was standing nearby. He was still in his suit, but once again without his suit jacket. He was rolling up his sleeves.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I was wondering if you had drunk too much wine.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Nick said angrily, struggling a bit. He noticed the ropes did indeed tighten against his skin.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “We’re continuing your therapy as I said. The drug should not have affected your memory.”

“By tying me up naked like a fucking… tied thing?!”

“Yes,” Hannibal replied simply. “We are testing your trust.”

Nick snorted. “I don’t see how drugging me and tying me up naked is supposed to help.”

Hannibal grinned and Nick shuddered. Definitely dangerous and intensely fucking hot, he thought. Hannibal walked over to Nick and trailed a hand down his back.

“You have beautiful skin, Nicholas.”

Nick shivered. “Thanks? That is all this anyway?” he asked, futilely gesturing to the ropes and knots.

“Kinbaku. The art of Japanese binding,” Hannibal replied.

After a beat of what Nick felt was an awkward silence, he said, “So what happens now?” He was started to get used to being tied up. He saw Hannibal walk closer and mess with something behind his back. He couldn’t help the yelp that came from his throat when he was lifted into the air.

“What the fuck?!” Nick said fear in his voice as he was swung out into the middle of the room. Hannibal tied off the rope and walked over. He touched whatever was holding Nick up, probably checking to see if it was secured properly, and glanced down at Nick, who was at waist height.

“I’ll have to gag you if you continue speaking in such a manner, Nicholas.”

Nick opened his mouth to reply with a snarky comment but closed it. For some reason, beyond his conscious thought, he trusted Dr. Lecter. Even after that same Doctor had drugged him, unclothed him, and tied him up. Nick had to admit, to himself, this wasn’t the worst situation he’d woken up to find himself in after a dinner date.

Hannibal trailed his long fingers through Nick’s hair and tugged gently. Nick whimpered, biting down on the groan that threatened to escape. Having his hair pulled had always turned him on. He loved it, probably too much. It was one of the reasons he’d married his second wife. She had known how to intensely please him. She had just been after his money, which he had suspected from the start and he had conned her into signing a prenup. She hadn’t gotten anything in the divorce, which she hadn’t been happy about. That’s when Nick had sworn off marriage.

Nick was brought out of his memories when Hannibal adjusted the ropes around his thighs, spreading them farther apart. Alarm bells went off in Nick’s head.

“Jesus Christ. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Stretching your thigh muscles,” Hannibal responded simply. He touched the insides of Nick’s thighs, stroking them lightly. Nick attempted to resist the urge to squirm in pleasure. Hannibal’s fingers were doing things to him he didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed immensely. He clenched his jaw against the moan in his throat. So far, Hannibal had yet to touch him any place he didn’t welcome, but Nick was still apprehensive.

“What are your-” Nick said before closing his mouth, his voice weak and uncertain. “What are your overall plans for tonight?” he asked, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Hannibal was silent. Standing, what Nick felt was a step away from his hips. “Do you mean am I going to fuck you, Nicholas? No.”

Nick breathed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “What are you going to do then?”

“For tonight, I want you to be comfortable with the bindings. To be comfortable with how they make you feel. To be comfortable with how you feel about being helpless, about being completely under someone else’s control,” Hannibal explained.

Nick involuntarily shivered. Whether from his nakedness and the temperature of the room or the controlled emotion behind Hannibal’s words, he didn’t know. He thought he could feel Hannibal’s pleasure at Nick’s reaction to his words.

Nick wiggled experimentally against his bonds; not in an effort to free himself as he had previously, more to test the limits he could move his body. He twisted causing himself to swing slightly. He cried out in shock, attempting to steady himself with his arms, but being unable to move them. The more he struggled, the more he swung, the more he panicked.

Hannibal let him swing and lose control until his cries eventually turned to light laughter.

“This is actually kind of fun,” Nick said, trying to swing himself better. Hannibal reached out and gave Nick a gentle push. Nick chuckled as he finally stopped swinging. He took a deep breath and glanced at Hannibal. “What’s next?”

Hannibal stilled Nick completely and ran his fingers over Nick’s exposed skin. Nick gasped lightly. Hannibal smiled and hoisted Nick higher so he was hanging at Hannibal’s chest height. Nick smiled up at Hannibal, being able to look in his chest properly for the first time since he had woken up. Hannibal smiled predatorially at Nick. He had picked up what looked like a silk scarf at some point, Nick noted before Hannibal tied it around Nick’s eyes effectively blindfolding him.

Nick could feel his body tensing. He had been blindfolded before, even while handcuffed, but never like this. This was almost too much for him. He took a few deep breaths to attempt to calm his racing heart. He swallowed the whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Nick started struggling against his bonds.

“Stop. Stop, Hannibal, stop. I can’t. I can’t do this,” Nick said, more than a little afraid. He began to hyperventilate. “I can’t breathe. I can’t -”

His struggles stopped when he felt Hannibal’s hands on his shoulders and chest.

“Just relax and breathe, Nicholas,” Hannibal murmured.

Nick nodded and followed Hannibal’s hands, breathing in and out. The warm reassurance of Hannibal helped relax him. Once he was breathing normally, Hannibal stepped away again. Nick felt his heart rate speeding up again and he started to struggle.

“I’m still here, Nicholas,” Hannibal said, only a step away.

Nick attempted to force himself to relax again. It took a handful of times with Hannibal stepping in only rarely before Nick was able to calm himself without Hannibal touching him.

“Well done.”  
Nick could hear the smile in Hannibal’s voice. He smiled extremely proud of himself.

“Do you think you could do it any time now?”

Nick frowned behind the blindfold. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“We can work on it more and hopefully advance tomorrow,” Hannibal said. “If you’re planning to return that is.”

Nick nodded. “You’ve helped me a lot, Doctor. And while your methods are a bit unorthodox,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, “they do get results.”

They were both quiet for a moment, Nick not entirely sure where Hannibal had walked to. He felt a breath ghost along his inner thighs and whimpered quietly, his dick twitching in interest.

“What, what’s the plan for the rest of the evening?”

“I thought you deserve a bit of pleasure after your work today,” Hannibal said from somewhere near Nick’s left hip. “It would be a shame to waste how beautiful you look in those knots.”

Nick wasn’t sure the correct answer was, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Good, Nicholas. Very good.”

Nick practically beamed at the compliment. He shivered as Hannibal placed feather-light touches on his exposed skin, always skirting his penis. Nick was surprised to hear a needy whine come from his mouth.

Hannibal chuckled and continued his touches. Nick felt his hips buck into the air as Hannibal’s fingers ghosted over his now-hard erection. Nick blushed deeply at his reaction. Hannibal gently touched Nick’s blush.

“Don’t be ashamed, Nicholas. It's an involuntary reaction.”

“I’m not usually this… needy,” Nick said quietly.

Nick tried to listen closely as Hannibal explained why his body was reacting the way it was to only a little stimulation, but it was very difficult as Hannibal kept touching his body with those long fingers. He wasn’t sure how long Hannibal kept talking and teasing him. Time seemed to speed up and slow down at the time same.

Nick gasped out Hannibal’s name and orgasmed almost as soon as Hannibal wrapped his hand around Nick’s member. It was one of the most intense orgasms Nick had ever experienced. He slumped against the rope utterly spent.

Hannibal swung him back over to the bed and quickly untied the ropes that surrounded his body. Nick moaned quietly as full feeling rushed back to his extremities.

Hannibal massaged his wrists and ankles to make the blood flow better. Nick attempted to sit up only to flop back down on the pillows. Hannibal pulled the sheets and blanket up over Nick.

“Rest, Nicholas.”

Nick nodded, in no position to argue and wouldn’t have anyway even if he hadn’t been so exhausted. He was asleep in moments.


End file.
